Spiderman: A New Era
by nbat09
Summary: The world is entering a new era; superpowered people are emerging, along with superheroes and supervillains. Peter Parker finds himself constantly losing battles in a crime-driven world where the Avengers have broken up. Will Peter be able to keep up with all of it?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is my first Fanfiction so I will appreciate any and all constructive criticism! This will probably last for 20+ chapters, introducing characters I created and twists on current Spiderman Homecoming characters. There will be multiple POVs, some cursing/coarse language, and lots of action which I suck at so use your imagination :)**

 **Also, I can't come up with very good titles or superhero team names so if you have any ideas, I'm all ears!**

 **DISCLAIMER – I don't own Spider-man or any other characters associated with Marvel! I am only using the characters for entertainment purposes. I only have a few original characters.**

 **PETER**

It happened when Peter had just made a new discovery. He had just discovered something more impossible than travelling faster than light speed, or even licking your elbow (go ahead and try.) He had discovered the impossibility of getting MJ to fucking cooperate.

" _Pleeassssseeeeee_ _."_

"No."

"MJ... Come on, please. I need your help. I can't find her without you. She's our only chance." But MJ already had her back to him.

"You know." She teased, "You should really learn to respect women when they tell you no."

But Peter could feel the panic climbing through him. He could already feel the loss, the pain, the guilt, because he could feel the minutes washing away, and with each one, his chest grew louder. "Please!" He begged. "Th-this is different. She's hurt and that, that's totally my fault but we need her. _I_ need her... Ineed _you_.

That's when it happened.

Right there, when Peter was standing in the middle of the crowded school cafeteria. That's when everything he had been trying to prevent, came true. That's when his worst nightmare came to life. That's when everything and everyone around him turned to specks to dust. That's when Midtown High School and everything and everyone within a mile, was obliterated.

Everyone and everything. Except for Peter.

Butthisisn't where the story begins. This is just one possibility in an infinite possibility of endings. This is one outcome (where thousands of people die) in a limitless number of horrible outcomes. So, which one will it be? Which ending will be the real ending? I guess you're just going to have to find out. But let me tell you one thing before we begin, sometimes the thing that is least likely to happen, does.

Peter snored on his couch, cookie crumbs lining his lips.

"Hey, Peter. Check this out."

More snoring.

"Spiderman! Queens needs your help!"

Peter rolled off the couch and swung through the air, his spider web sticking to the ceiling. He dangled upside down, inches away from Ned's face, drool dripping out of his mouth.

He swatted the spit away, casually, and dropped to the floor, "Ned. I was having a good dream. I'm not really in the mood to play with my subconscious spider-sense, especially after my beat down last night."

Ned ignored the attitude, "Just look at the news."

Peter caught himself staring at Ned's messy, raven hair. Something Peter hasn't felt since Liz last year bubbled inside of him. He shook the feeling and peeled his eyes away from Ned's radiating smile, to the old television, which only reminded Peter that he had destroyed May's expensive flat screen last week. But the news quickly flipped Peter's guilt to joy.

"Is, is that m-me?"

"No. It's superman." Ned joked as he flipped through the news channels. "You're on every one. They're all because of you."

Peter staggered backwards, bumping into the couch. His (low) self-esteem ignited the denying thoughts in his mind. He couldn't believe that dozens, no, _hundreds_ of super-hero teams were inspired by _him_. No way it was Spiderman, there must have been some sort of mix up. It had to be Mr. Stark, or Mr. Vision, or even Hawkeye. Spiderman's never done anything special. He's just caught a couple of bad guys. Peter's never done anything special.

"Peter, you're incredible. I mean, you were awesome before but you've inspired so many people. All of these groups are because of Spiderman. You've changed the freaking world... With my help of course."

"What?" He laughed as he spoke. "No... Have they really become that popular? Do people really–" His voice cracked. "Do they really believe in Spiderman?"

Ned hugged him. His soft stomach squishing up against Peter's body, and for a moment, just a moment, nothing else mattered.

Who would've thought posting videos of Spiderman fighting crime would become so popular. The internet made him a hero in so many people's eyes. Maybe Ned was right. Maybe Spiderman has created something special by doing something ordinary.

 **MJ (Michelle)**

MJ wondered what possesses teenage boys to be so, _so_ stupid.

"Fuck off, man." She said as she wedged her hand between asshole athlete guy and a clearly uncomfortable girl. MJ's "ability" kicked in, all of her senses intensifying. A power-surging sound made its way up from the girl's fist to MJ's tingling right ear. She glanced over at the girl's fist and zoomed in, an ounce of red mist seeping out of the girl's skin.

The girl tucked her hands into her jacket pocket, swiftly and suspiciously.

She's one of them. She's just like MJ. She's just like Peter. How many more of them are at this school?

"You fuck off. Octavia doesn't mind me here." The (entitled) white boy snapped.

MJ put her death glare on. She could see the sweat building up on his skin and the twitch in his eye. Fragile, was all MJ could think. Fragile.

"Yes." MJ gripped his wrist. "She does." And then she smiled as she twisted his entire body in the opposite direction and shoved him into the beige lockers. "Now fuck off."

He brushed himself off and MJ noticed specks of what looks like red sand flick onto the hall tile. The grain-sized specks glided across the bacteria filled floor and up Octavia's aging shoes and into the sliver of ankle she was showing. They disappeared like magic, almost like her skin was absorbing the twinkling sand-mist.

Uh, what the hell?

"Thanks, Michelle." Octavia squeaked.

"MJ."

"Right, MJ. Thanks. See you around."

She shuffled away, grass stains on the bottom of her shoes, dirt on her dark tan ankles. Her silky, black hair is tucked into her hoodie, which MJ realized she took from the Lost & Found two weeks ago.

MJ's brain whirled, her senses enhancing and un-enhancing. The sounds of kids chewing gum and doorknobs clicking and papers shuffling and zippers zipping. Smells of rotting apples and uncleaned cafeteria tables and fresh lunches wafted through the air. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she felt dust crawling on her skin.

Sometimes that happens. Sometimes MJ's "ability" spins out of control, and her mind and body hyper-focus on everything around her.

She whipped out her book, flipped to page 264, and began to read. Within seconds, her senses dialed down, her brain calmed and she just let herself become a part of the book's world.

Sometimes that's all it takes to control her power again. To escape reality, even just for a minute.

Is that why we dream? To escape reality? To run away from the truth that superpowers aren't _always_ a blessing?

Maybe that's why we create? Maybe that's why humans have imagination, so we can escape, even for just a little while?

MJ couldn't help but wonder if anyone would ever know the answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**I just want to add that the picture posted as the cover of this story is NOT mine, it is moggle777's on Pinterest. I'm pretty sure they have an Instagram but I can't remember it, so if anyone knows, please let me know!**

 **I am having some issues with my laptop so if there are spacing errors it's because it won't let me edit it. Also, this chapter has some cursing and violence.**

Chapter 2

 **PETER**

"What the HELL is that thing?" Spiderman screamed as he flew through a wall.

"I don't know. There's a couple of news articles that talk about instances of shape-shifters, but they can only change their _human_ appearance, not turn into inanimate objects or freaking _matter_!"

Somehow, Peter could hear the clicking of Ned's keyboard over the ringing in his head. He limped over the blood-spattered carpet, rubble falling of his suit with each heavy step. His instincts are telling him to run, to get as far away from here as possible, and yet, he can't seem to walk without guilt tugging on his shoulder.

"Ned..." He wheezed, "I need to take them down, but how am I supposed to fight something I can't even see? I can't throw webs at them or punch-"

But Peter didn't get to finish his sentence because his lungs ran out of oxygen. The air grew thick and his vision clouded. A whisper echoed through the room. It was shrill but also deep, eldritch but also soothing, gentle but also powerful. It lacked words but it was packed with feelings. Strange, harsh feelings.

Peter's throat tightened. His stomach lurched. He wanted to beg, to ask for help, for mercy, but you need air to do that, and his lungs felt like they were filled with sand. Why is it that Peter is gifted with incredible abilities, only to find out that it's still not enough, that _he's_ still not enough?

"Critically low oxygen level. Implementing Save Peter's Life Again." Karen's voice. Thank God for Karen.

Within seconds, oxygen was circling through his body again.

"I got it!" Ned blared into Peter's throbbing head. "Use poison! The mist stuff that was suffocating you is the shape-shifter. They transformed into air. Sooooooooo poison the air, poison them, weaken them, win!"

Karen, now programmed to Ned's voice too, acted appropriately. A dark purple tint slowly flowed through the fog.

"Thanks Ned, you're a life saver." Peter flipped onto the ceiling, looking around, waiting for the shape-shifter to take a new mold. The purple air swirled. A block-like object formed underneath Peter and this time, a snicker echoed through the room. "Oh no. No no no no NO!" Peter tried to dodge it. _Tried_.

A freight train car materialized in the middle of the fucking building and against all physics and odds and gravity, it _rose_. Well, more like _crashed_ into Peter's small body, and the countless floors of the building Peter had already been tossed through once today.

Up and up and up the massive railcar went, dragging an unconscious Spiderman with it.

 **NED**

Ned sat on Peter's tan carpet, his head propped up against the twin bed. He could hear every single one of Peter's straining breaths and his back hurt from sitting on the floor for hours but he couldn't leave Peter's side. Not after he failed him. Not after Peter almost died.

May poked her head in the room for about the 100th time tonight. Ned could see the tear stains on her blouse. Guilt sucker punched him in the gut, again. That was the only punching Ned ever had to face. Peter takes all the blows. He takes all the pain. Maybe it's time Ned starts to take some too.

May's voice faltered, "How are you doing, Ned? Do you want anything to eat? We have some leftover pizza in the fridge..."

"N-no thanks, May." He wished he could say more. He wished he could apologize.

"Okay." She said, her eyes glued to Peter's black and blue face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

No, he wasn't. Ned hasn't been _good_ in a while. Ned hasn't been _good_ since Homecoming last year. Maybe even before that. He has been ordinary though. He's always been ordinary. He's always felt ordinary. The one thing he thought he had, turns out to be ordinary too. What are brains when freaking shape-shifters exist? What's the point of being a little smarter if you can't save your best friend from getting smashed through 10 floors of skyscraper?

Peter's toes wiggled underneath the wrinkled blanket.

"Mmph."

Aunt May stopped dead in her tracks, her whole body frozen. Then she spun on her heel and bolted to Peter's bedside. Ned had never seen someone turn around so fast, well, except for that speedster two weeks ago.

"Peter? Can you hear me? It's May." Her tears soaked into the carpet, "Ned's here too. He didn't leave your side all night. How are you feeling? We have water if you're feeling up to it. Pizza too if you're hungry."

"I just... got thrown though... a skyscraper. Not hungry." He coughed.

Ned could breathe again. A part of him thought Peter wasn't going to wake up, like that was the last time he would hear his voice, his laugh, his smile. I guess Ned never realized how much he missed Peter when they were apart, until now.

Isn't it funny how we don't appreciate something until we're about to lose it?

 **PETER**

Any other normal human thing would have died after the first floor, but Peter? He lived through the whole damn building. Like. A. Freak. But for the first time in his life, he was truly thankful to be a freak. Now, if he could just be a _little_ bit more of a freak, that'd be great.

His healing ability fixed all of his broken bones and gaping wounds and deep cuts but APPARENTLY an overnight coma can't solve everything. Apparently, concussions, broken ribs, and surface bruises don't come in the Spider-man healing package, at least, not when everything else is fatal.

Still, the next few days of school were hell. Ned was always there though, so it was a bearable hell. He carried Peter's books when he got the chance and had paper bags handy for vomit. Ned covered for him while he slept in class and lied to teachers about why they were late to class.

Hopefully it fooled everyone, but Peter had this nagging feeling that it didn't.

"Hey Peter, you in there?"

"What?"

Ned's chubby head tilted in a cute, concerned boyfriend– best friend look. Peter shoved the feeling away again and tried to keep himself attached to reality.

"How's your head? And your bruises? I can go steal an ice pack from the nurse if you want... I'll return it later obviously."

"Besides the aching every time I move and the flashbacks? I'm managing." That was the truth. Peter's managing. He's not bad but he's far from good, especially with a maniac on the loose. "Don't bother with the ice."

"Oh okay. You know, I still can't believe you're up and talking." Sunlight reflected off of Ned's fascinated eyes. Peter tried not to make his staring obvious, but Ned's eyes are just... Fuck. They're just so beautiful. "It's a miracle really, even with your super-healing. When you do heal completely, what are we going to do about the shape-shifter? It doesn't make sense that they left you alive after all of _that_."

"Honestly, I don't want to know why they left me there. I'm hoping it's because they thought I was so close, close to, uh, death, and that I'm not a part of some evil plan for world denomination or something." Peter forced the images away. He forced the waking up alone, blood gushing out of him, lying motionless on the rubble of a skyscraper, away.

"But why would someone try so hard to kill you and then-"

"Who's killing Peter?" MJ butted in.

Shit.

Of _course_ , it's MJ.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **MJ**

Usually MJ finds pleasure when messing with people but this time is different. MJ had been watching Peter all day long, in a non-stalker type way of course, and he had been acting weirder than usual, which is saying something.

His skin trembled every time he took a step. His back hunched when he sat. His lungs sounded frail and his heart was at a constant state of stress. Ned babied him and they snuck off every few classes, Peter gripping his stomach. MJ tried not to use her powers to spy, but it was just so easy, you know, both spying and using her abilities.

If Peter really is Spider-man, doesn't that mean he should be fine? Shouldn't he heal up like he does after every fight? What the hell happened to him that he's not?

"Who's killing Peter?" MJ repeated.

"Nobody." Ned lied. "We were just joking that Mr. Johnson is killing us with all these assignments."

A smirk grew on MJ's face. They're in for it now.

"Yeah? Then what's this?" MJ reached for Peter's sleeve and his spider reflexes failed him. She pinned his arm down to the wood table and he clearly didn't have the strength to resist. Bruises lined his arm. Purple-looking blood underneath his pale skin. Dark red blotches smeared on the inside of his sleeve.

MJ wished she had been wrong. She wished she would have seen a clean arm. She wished it was almost anything other than this, because _this_ can only mean one of two things.

"What the hell is this? Huh?"

They said nothing. MJ was losing her already minimal patience.

"Pick up your shirt."

"Excuse me?"

Oh, so he can talk.

"You heard me." Her voice was sharp. "Pick up your shirt."

Peter's eyes jolted around the deserted school courtyard. The hairs on his black and blue arm stuck up, his senses on high alert, just like MJs. He couldn't keep still. She wondered if he was scared of her or just in pain, she hoped it was the latter.

He lifted his shirt.

Fuck. She was right.

It hurt to look at. Bruises all over his scrawny body. Medical wrap (that was clearly bought at the nearest handy way) covered his abs, blood seeping to the exterior. Deep slashes peaked out of the parts of his stomach that aren't hidden. Slits in his skin stretched past his waist and above his collarbone. His whole body jerked with each breath and a wheeze followed each exhale. His pulse was rapid, throbbing, pumping blood all over his weak body.

She looked away, vomit crawling up her throat. He pulled his layers of clothing back over the injuries.

"Wha-" Words failed her. "How? Where did you– How?"

Peter and Ned exchanged glances. Tenseness filled the musty air. MJ felt vibrations ripple through her skin: Ned fidgeting with his jeans, Peter tapping his foot, band kids walking through the football field, a train taking off at the station, and an airplane whizzing through the sky. She struggled to keep her senses limited and her brain focused. What is taking them so long? What are they both thinking about? Whether or not to tell her the truth? It doesn't matter, she already knows. She knows everything. She knows what she has to do, but do they?

"I'm..." Peter muttered.

Ned's eyes widened. She didn't want to make him say it, well, she did a _little_.

"I'm... It's gonna sound crazy, but I'm–"

"Spiderman." MJ finished his sentence and MAN was she glad she did. You should see the looks on their faces. They both stared at her. Ned's lip quivered. Peter's brow wrinkled. Sweat particles dripped onto the grass. Millimeter sized tear droplets formed on Peter's eyelashes. But it was their face as a whole that MJ made sure she remembered.

Priceless.

 **PETER**

"wHAT THE _FUCK_ DID SHE JUST SAY?" Peter thought. "Please tell me she didn't just say _Spider-Man_. How the hell did she– oh my god, how long has she known? How does she know? I don't understand. I've been so careful. How does she know?"

"You're Spider-man, right? That's how you got all of _that_? By fighting evil or whatever?" MJ looked a little too happy with herself.

Peter's voice came back to him. "Well, yeah. Pretty much. But, but, but how did you find out?"

"I'm not stupid, Parker." That sounded like a lie in disguise to Peter. Her voice was shaky, nervous. Her legs kept bending, her weight shifting from right to left. Right to left. She never does that. MJ is always proud and confident, so why not now? What's _she_ hiding?

His eyes narrowed. "I don't believe that for a second. How did you really find out?" She looked taken back. "You know my biggest secret, what's yours?"

She muttered, "Bitch."

Ned, meanwhile, was in desperate need of some popcorn. He sat there, elbow propped on the table, knuckles holding his chin up. But he looked tired. The kind of tired you try to hide from other people. Ned had stayed up for Peter all last night, but it's not that. It's not lack of sleep. It's not exhaustion. It's not that kind of tired. Peter remembered that face. That worn out, broken down, battered feeling. That fucking feeling.

"I'm just like you." MJ confessed. (If she says she's Spider-Woman, Peter's going to flip his shit). "You have spider senses, right? Well, I have enhanced senses. I can hear your heart beat or rain from a mile away. I can see the bacteria in the air or a fly on a skyscraper. I can smell Flash's lunch from here and I can feel you tapping your left foot right now."

Ned's eyes lit up the same way they did when he found out Peter was Spider-Man. Eyes of pure happiness, even if it only lasted for a second. It's like something from a fairytale. Some type of magic that makes everything better and brighter. Rose tinted glasses created with Ned's beating eyes. That right there, is all Peter wanted. Just that. To see Ned filled with joy. That's all it took to make all of the pain flow away.

"Oh my god." Peter thought.

Peter finally got it. He finally understood that flutter in his stomach and that smile hiding in his cheeks. He finally got it. How had he not realized before? He's in love with Ned Leeds.

Suddenly this conversation no longer mattered. MJ having superpowers? Whatever. MJ knowing that he's Spider-Man? Oh well. MJ possibly telling the entire world Peter Parker is Spiderman and ruining everything he's worked for in the past year? Screw it. Ned Leeds was all he could think about.

They continued talking, Peter joining in every so often, but he wasn't there. His mind was elsewhere, taking off into the world of "The person who made me realize I'm gay." Well... Bi?

THE NEXT DAY

Peter bit his lip.

His English teacher strolled through the rows of desks, the news playing over the projector. The news broadcaster was speaking (over Spiderman's recording) about the recent appearances of superhero teams across the country. A grainy Spiderman fell off a fuzzy skyscraper and Peter flinched at the memory of hitting the ground. It's only been three days since the Shape Shifter incident and all of Peter's injuries have healed up, except, of course, for the mental ones.

The teacher cleared her throat. "Some of these groupsthat are forming have kids in them. Teenagers. _Students_. I want all of you to know that they are incredibly dangerous and fighting crime is a serious matter that should be handled by trained officials."

"Some _trained officials_ shoot kids like us for no reason!" A voice from the back of the classroom argued.

"Who said that?" The teacher demanded. "Who said that?"

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

His teacher continued, irritated. "The Avengers broke up because they were a danger to the world. All of these mini-avengers aren't going to change the world, they're just going to get themselves hurt. Average people have no business fighting crime, and neither do people with superhuman abilities. These groups will _not_ make America safer, mark my word."

The bell rang (thank God) but the topic was popular among the students. Peter eavesdropped on a couple different conversations, trying not to look suspicious.

"I would TOTALLY join one. I'm nothing special but a lot of them are just regular people who know cool tricks or something, you know?"

"Nah. I'd rather just fangirl over them. There's one in Brooklyn called The Steves and they're a bunch of middle-aged guys who can hack stuff. They stop bank robberies and things like that."

"Bro. You have to check out The Hots in Florida. It's an all-girls group and they all have this fire superpower thing from an explosion. They're _soooooo_ hot. Get it?"

"You're an idiot and your jokes are horrible... Have any pictures?"

"Do I have pictures? I have a whole fucking album."

"Do you think Spiderman will make one? He was part of the Avengers so he probably has tons of people wanting to join his team."

"I dunno. Maybe he doesn't want another team because he's sad about the Avengers breaking up. Everyone else wants to pay tribute to them and thank them but they were, like, his friends. Does that make sense?"

"Oh yeah. Damn. I never even thought about that."

Peter stood there, ideas swirling in his brain. What if he did create a team? He hasn't caught a criminal in weeks. Hell, he hasn't won a fight in weeks. He has Ned, but Ned can't prevent Peter from being killed by a Shape Shifter or broken ribs and a concussion, which he's gotten multiple times in the past month.

"It's not my fault." Peter thought to himself. "It's not my fault that criminals have gotten stronger and smarter [since Civil War]. It's not my fault that I'm not strong enough. I'm agile and I'm fast and I have my Spidey sense, but that's not enough to catch a Shape Shifter. Maybe that's what I need. Maybe I need a sidekick. No, not a sidekick, a team. MJ."

Peter darted down the hall, weaving through the chattering students. He spotted Ned battling with his locker.

"Ned ned ned ned ned ned." He slid across the floor and into Ned's DMs. JUST KIDDING. He slid across the floor and slammed into Ned's locker door.

"Oh! Sorry Peter!" Ned shyly moved the locker away from Peter's face, "You okay?"

Blood dripped from Peter's nose, "Yeah yeah, I'm good."


End file.
